


and the stars in my lonely sky / are infinite bright

by Pumpkin_Spiced_Scribbler



Category: In the Heights - Miranda/Hudes
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Sonny/Graffiti Pete (background), Weddings, but its gonna be okay!!!!, they love each other so much!!!!, usnavi is nervous (10 hrs)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pumpkin_Spiced_Scribbler/pseuds/Pumpkin_Spiced_Scribbler
Summary: Vanessa and Usnavi's wedding day! Usnavi is nervous, and no one is surprised. Things figure themselves out.Teen for language
Relationships: Usnavi/Vanessa (In the Heights)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	and the stars in my lonely sky / are infinite bright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisstableground](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisstableground/gifts).



> This was so fun to write! It's my first Usnavi/Vanessa centric fic- and the first thing I've posted in like two years- so feedback is much appreciated!
> 
> (title from 'Hunter Moon' by Kate Rusby)

Usnavi sits with his elbows on his knees, twirling his hat between his fingers- round and round and round as he tries to calm down. Having it feels like fulfilling a predictable punchline- _bet he’d even wear that hat on his wedding day!-_ but screw that, he loves this hat and it don’t even look that bad with the suit. Plus, it’s _his_ wedding, so he can wear it if he damn well wants to. The hat spins faster. Rather than funnelling out his nervous energy like repetitive movements usually do, it seems to be filling him up like a generator wheel but he can’t make it stop now that he’s started. His jaw is all clenched up but he can’t force it to loosen. _Shit, shit, shit_ he’s starting to freak out.

It’s not like he’s surprised. When’s the last time he managed to do something important without freaking himself out over it first? _Should’ve made sure the whole thing would be quicker,_ he thinks, stupidly, _a surprise wedding, so I wouldn’t have had time to get nervous._ The jitters running up his bones are getting painful and, after a moment and an effort like popping a cork, he slams his hat back onto his head and shakes out all his limbs like he’s dancing, throws himself to his feet. At least he’s stopped spinning now, but the buzzing ain’t gone so he jigs up and down for a minute, jogs on the spot until he feels stupid enough to drop down onto the fancy couch again. The thing is far too uncomfortable to be as expensive as it probably is.

Half the battle is these physical sensations- and though it feels better to have moved, he still feels taught like a slingshot, feels like there’s more muscles than usual in his neck. He twists his hands together painfully, hating that even though he knows what his brain is doing, he can’t shut it up when he wants to. Hating the two-Usnavis feeling- one that can step a little outside his brain and tell that he’d be mostly fine if his heart wasn’t going so fast, and the other that knows with the whole of his being that Everything Is Going To Go Wrong.

He can practically feel his brain whirring- trying to find something specific to be freaking out _about_ so that it feels like it’s doing something useful. Like, what if he gets up there, and he’s forgotten all of his vows? And somehow he’s left his note-cards at home so he can’t even have a prompt? He feels for the lump of them in his breast pocket- they're there, of course, but he pulls them out to check that he hasn’t accidentally brought Sonny’s Poli-Sci notes from four years ago or something instead. His own chicken-scratch handwriting spells out ‘ _Usnavi De La Vega Wedding Vows’_ at the top, which probably wasn’t necessary, but, hey, you can’t be too careful. He’d almost added ‘Vanessa’ at the end, but realised that made it look like he was considering having more than one wedding- or, worse, that he’d already married someone else in secret. It wasn’t like anyone but him would’ve seen them, but, still. _He’d_ have felt weird about it.

He goes through the cards thoroughly, just in case he’s forgotten how to read since this morning. They rhyme, partly because he thought that’d help him remember them, but he’s starting to wonder if he’s gonna look a bit stupid. Too late to change them now, though. He reads them over again in case the first time was a fluke, and he’s started on his third when a finger prods at his forehead and breaks him out of his brain. He looks up to see Sonny’s face, mildly exasperated, and Graffiti Pete’s a few inches above it.

“You’re bouncin’, man.” he says, and Usnavi notices, stops, feels worse, and starts up again.

“It gets it out.” he says tightly. Sonny holds up his hands. 

“Hey, I get that- just makin’ sure you knew.” He flops down next to him with his arms folded, knees up too high on the low couch. Usnavi gives him a mental once-over- _Hair’s growing out, jacket sleeves cuffed because they’re too long, pretty sure those earrings are Benny’s, is the beard still weird? Yes._ “We just came to see how you were doin’. He knocks Usnavi’s shoulder lightly, while Pete sits down on his other side. _Also weird._ “You freakin’ yourself out?”

Usnavi looks back at his knees and doesn’t answer, which is apparently answer enough, because suddenly they’re both up on their feet again, and Usnavi’s being pulled along with them by a hand underneath each arm. He splutters vague protests as he’s frogmarched out of his dark side-room into the lobby, but neither of them listen as they grin and wave to guests and staff- none of whom look as concerned for his safety as they should. 

“You’ll feel better outside, it’s stuffy in here.” Sonny says firmly, dragging him down a new corridor and dodging a waiter. Pete’s so much taller than both of them that Usnavi’s left foot is barely on the ground. 

“He’s right, man, you feel a hundred degrees.”

“That ain’t that hot!” Usnavi grumbles, fruitlessly wriggling his arms. Halfway between normal and a fever- that’s nothing! Pete is unmoved.

“I’m talkin’ in Celsius,” he says airily.

Usnavi is steered out into the gardens and deposited in the middle of a path- and, annoyingly, the cool air on his face does feel nice. Sonny tugs his jacket off and pulls at his arms until he’s holding them out side to side, then leaves him like that- a particularly un-intimidating scarecrow. He glares at them both. Sonny looks at him pointedly.

"You need to cool down."

“I need to look like a crucifix to do that?” Sonny just gives him an unimpressed _‘stop being difficult and do it’_ look that always turns him into a copy of his mom. Usnavi huffs, but turns his head up to the sky, glaring into the pale brightness as he holds himself solid. Staying still is no more fun than it ever is, but- much as it irks him to realise it- it does make him feel a little better. The cool breeze, though it draws his attention too much to how he’s sweated under his arms (thank god he’ll have the jacket back on for the ceremony) coaxes him further out of his brain, which seems to have been overheating like a crappy computer. He pulls his hat off and imagines steam coming off his head, as the wind runs like fingers over his scalp. The sky aches to look at. 

After he’s stood like that for as long as he can bear it, he scrunches up his eyes and shakes himself out again, before turning back to the boys.

“Happy now?”

“Yeah, you look like you ain’t about to try and eat my brains no more. C’mon, walk an’ talk, what you been tellin’ yourself is gonna happen?” 

He lets himself be led along the little paths, between flowers retreating back into their buds from the day’s unexpected chill, lets Sonny’s chatter draw out the silly rambling thoughts he’s been feeding himself.

“Like, what if my vows are really stupid?” he demands of the thin gravel path, “What if I do somethin’ real dumb like drop my cards or forget what I’m sayin’ or-”

“Then you’ll look like a dork an’ it’ll be funny an’ Vanessa’ll think it’s the cutest thing ever. You been with her this long, you gotta know she’s crazy about you by now, right? Don’t tell me you been missing that?” 

He’s grinning and half joking, because of course Usnavi knows Vanessa loves him- but, actually, _Yeah!_ another small Usnavi in his brain pipes up, _Vanessa thinks I’m cute as hell!_ Vanessa thinks it’s cute when he dances in the kitchen and fumbles and drops things- he knows that well enough that he does it on purpose now, to get those fond little smiles and kisses. (She definitely knows that it’s on purpose, but as that only seems to increase the _‘Usnavi’s a cute dork’_ factor, he isn’t too worried about that.) If those kinds of fumbles are cute, any wedding-nerves fumbles will be pretty cute too, surely. He imagines Vanessa in her wedding dress, snorting because he tripped over his laces, and suddenly messing up isn’t nearly so scary. 

“Yeah! Yeah, you’re right,” he says, and he’s still thinking about Vanessa laughing so he can feel a smile stretching his face. How can he be stressing out when he’s _marrying Vanessa_ today? That’s the best thing he could be doing, the best thing ever and also the biggest most important thing he’s maybe ever done and- suddenly he feels quite sick again.

It’ll be fine, though. It doesn’t matter if he screws something up, it’ll be fine. But- what if something outside of him goes wrong? Something could be going wrong right now and he wouldn’t even know- or what if he messes up something that he hasn’t even thought of that could actually ruin everything-

“ _Aarrgh_!” he shakes his head violently to cut off the stream, but his jitters are coming back in full force. Sonny looks vaguely alarmed.

“You alright?”

“Yeah! No? I dunno, I’m just-” he forces his voice back into its normal octave, “There’s just a lot of things to be worryin’ about, y’know? An’ I gotta make sure I worry about ‘em all, and don’t forget any, so that I can fix ‘em all in my head so if they happen for real I know what to do.” Saying that out loud really does make that seem like a solid ticket to Usnavi-panics-for-an-hour town, and Sonny looks unimpressed.

“Well-” he starts, but Pete, who’s just looked at his watch, cuts him off and waves his wrist in Sonny’s direction.

“Aw, shit.” He turns back to Usnavi with a grimace. “Look, we still got some shit to do before the ceremony, but I ain’t wanna leave you worryin’ yourself to death out here so can I get someone?” 

Usnavi feels a stab of guilt- is he messing up his own wedding preparations? That’d be impressively pathetic. Standing around by himself feels like a very bad idea, though- always, when he’s like this, being alone makes it worse.

“Yeah- yeah, that’d help. Maybe Benny or Nina? Could help to talk to someone who’s got, you know, experience in this.” And he should have expected the righteously offended scoffs that gets him, and the punch on the arm from his cousin.

“Hey, what does that make us?” He’s grinning all over his whole dumb face because _dios mio,_ he’s never not gonna jump at the chance to remind Usnavi that he got married first. It’s easy for that fact to fall out of his head when the happy couple are standing right in front of him and neither of their suits fit. Pete’s tie looks like he lost interest in it halfway through getting dressed. Usnavi scowls and adopts his usual angle.

“Town hall rubber stamp bullshit with no one else there don’t count- you can come running to me for advice when you do the real thing, and don’t think I’m forgetting you promised-”

“Yeah, yeah, you wait ‘till we’re rolling in it, gonna have the biggest party this side of the Hudson,” Pete’s face is almost entirely grin, now, too, so much that Usnavi can’t help catching some of it,

“Long as I’m best man, you can do it at your apartment for all I care.” He shoves them back in the direction of the hall, pulling his jacket out of Sonny’s arms, “You’ll both be beggin’ for tips after you see what I got in store for you-”

He watches them bumping shoulders on the way back to the church and thinks ‘ _no, they won’t’._

And now he’s by himself again- which is fine. He pushes away thoughts like _I’m alone again,_ because everyone is literally a hundred yards away and just past those doors, but like, right now, technically, he is kind of on his own. At least, from a certain angle. 

He pulls his jacket back on, finally chilly enough to wear it, and starts to bounce on his heels on the spot again. Come _on,_ Usnavi, it’s your _wedding day!_ Of course his nerves are up- it’d be a bad sign if he was feeling totally chilled out right now, right? Like, this just shows how much he cares about it! If this was a movie, there’d be very dramatic exciting music going on right now- probably, that’s what his brain is trying to make up for with all its yelling and jumping around. 

But being just a _little_ more chilled out would definitely be nice, because the jitters are building up to that point where he thinks he might say literally anything when he opens his mouth. Like he could just get up to the altar and for no reason at all, the words that happen are _‘sorry, Vanessa, I don’t want to marry you after all’-_ cause there’d probably be no coming back from that, really. Or like, what if- and he feels preemptively sick because he knows exactly what’s coming- what if- what if that’s what _Vanessa_ says, what if she comes to her senses and realises how much better she could be doing or how much more fun she could be having if she wasn’t-

Usnavi squishes his own face between his hands and shakes it because this is six-years-ago-Usnavi coming out of the woodwork and _he knows better than this now, goddamnit._ But god, if his brain doesn’t want him to forget it. Vanessa doesn’t like commitment, Vanessa doesn’t want to be trapped and tied down and _Usnavi,_ clingy, assumption-making Usnavi is the one who really wanted this and what if-

His bouncing has started to take him slightly off the ground, and, rather than attract the attention of anyone who might look out of the back windows, he starts to pace the little paths again. So many of the roses have curled up tight and hidden away- which is a nice idea right now, to be honest. He breathes in the cold air, as deep as he can, and makes an unintentional wheezing squeak like a busted dog toy when his chest won’t cooperate. He frowns and walks faster and tries it again, and again, until he can feel the chill hitting the bottom of his stomach. In and out, counting the seconds like Nina showed him. It only works for him sometimes, but thankfully, today is one of those times. He forces his heart-rate to slow.

This isn’t a new subject for him to navigate. It’s an old path, one he’s trodden before, because it’s probably the biggest real difference between them. _Usnavi can’t do casual_ and _Vanessa can’t do serious_ so it felt like such a bad idea to keep going sometimes- but they made it, they did, and they’ve been working through it since the very beginning.

Their first real fight came out of it- and however much it makes him cringe to remember it, it always ultimately helps- so he runs his mind over the familiar grooves of the memory, working through it like untying a piece of string.

They’d been dating for just over six months- not _long_ , but long enough to have moved firmly out of the rush of that first Summer, to feel the shift of ‘dating’ as in going-on-dates to ‘Dating’ as in _we’re dating,_ as in dating Vanessa- and Vanessa dating him and like, an actual _relationship._ Vanessa had actually even called him her _boyfriend,_ like, in front of _other people._ Not that long, but long enough for Usnavi’s brain to have run on ahead without him really thinking about it. Because he’s always just been like that- ready to fall in love in a month and wrap his whole heart up like a gift for one person once they started kissing him hello and adding little hearts onto the ends of their texts. Not that Vanessa had done the second one until almost the one-year mark.

It twists up his insides to reminisce like this- part of him painfully embarrassed at all the things he’d been thinking about so soon, part of him pumped beyond belief because _yo, past Usnavi, we really got there this time!_ But- six months in? He’d let his heart run away with him a little. 

And his mouth, too, because, curled on her couch, chatting away about something inane, he’d said _when you move back-_ and he’d used the word “ _when”_ like a goddamn idiot- and that had almost been it. Vanessa’s face had closed up like a door and he barely remembers what either of them said after that, but he’d been back in his own place that night.

The embarrassment swells here, as he watches the memory of himself blunder through her most serious boundaries- but he hadn’t thought about it, then. Because Vanessa was living downtown, yeah, but it felt like this was going to last and if it was going to last, they were going to live together eventually, and if they were going to live together eventually then it was going to be in Washington Heights because there was no conceivable future where Usnavi was leaving- therefore, eventually, Vanessa would move back. And he just hadn’t thought about _her-_ he’d made decisions for her, years into the future, even, hadn’t even considered how long and hard she’d been working to get out of the place he still loved. 

That’s what she’d told him, the next day, when she asked him to come back so they could talk- but when he’d opened the door and seen her face he’d been sure she was going to break up with him. For most of the conversation, he’d thought she was still furious- but the Usnavi that remembers can file the creases in her brow, the refusal to look at him, under _‘I’m bad at doing this and I don’t want to screw it up’_ . Because _Vanessa don’t like talking about feelings,_ but she’d done it then, for him- talked about what they wanted and what they needed, how they could make it work when they seemed so different- talked about _feelings_ for longer than he’s sure she ever, ever wanted to- but, she’d done it.

And she’d told him, much later, that her instinct had been to just end it, just to avoid that conversation entirely- it was Nina who’d talked her into giving him another chance- and he’s been so fiercely grateful, so fiercely proud, that she made that effort for him. Because it was their first real fight, but it was their last, too. They’ve argued, of course, they’ve still always been so different in such big, obvious places- but that was the last time they yelled, slammed doors, stormed out. It felt like crossing a hurdle that he hadn’t even known was there- committing to each other in a way they hadn’t realised they would have to. Starting to practice catching himself when he ran ahead of her in his brain, seeing Vanessa let down some of her walls, bit by bit, when she was sure that she could trust him not to break her. Learning where he needed to tread softly and where she- _Vanessa_ \- even needed his strength. Learning _Vanessa._

Six years of learning her- going on seven, now- which is why he isn’t going to panic out of his mind about this- he knows her, he trusts her, so what is he _doing_ feeling so scared of this step? 

Maybe it ain’t a good sign that he’s stressed after all. If there’s no logical reason for him to be worried- and there _ain’t_ , he’s sure of that now- then what’s wrong with him? He’s always wanted to marry Vanessa, ain’t nothing to be scared about there- the thought of being her _husband_ makes him almost tear up on the spot- and Vanessa wants to marry him, too, whatever his stupid dumb brain wants him to think. She _asked him. Vanessa don’t like commitment_ but she’s been with his dorky ass for almost seven years, and she moved in with him after five of them- because she actually wanted to, not because it was ‘what couples do’ or just because Usnavi wanted it- and she _asked you to marry her,_ you fucking idiot, she _asked._

She wants him, for good. He knows that. She gets fierce about it sometimes, holds him like she’d rip the limbs off anything that dared try and take him away, kisses him like she’s saying _this one’s mine, you motherfuckers, just you try it._ And, just objectively, there ain’t no universe where Vanessa Garcia would get this close to marrying somebody if she didn’t definitely, indisputably want to.

So what the _fuck_ is he doing? Maybe he’s the one that isn’t ready. He wants to marry her, he really, really does- but if he’s freaking out like this then maybe it’s a bad idea- maybe- 

And thank god, Benny’s walking towards him from the hall. It’s funny, seeing him in the shirt and tie he used to wear every day when they were younger- if he squints away the dusting of salt-and-pepper hair, he turns into a Benny from the past. The fond exasperation on his face hasn’t changed over the years, either. When he gets close enough, Usnavi walks forward into his chest and hugs him harder than he was expecting to, and Benny’s laugh is only a little surprised.

“Hey, man, how you holdin’ up?” He pats his back clumsily. “Sonny said you were spiralling. What you worried about?” Usnavi’s voice is muffled in his shoulder.

“Worryin’.” he mumbles. Benny chuckles again,

“Well, I mean, I guessed-”

“Nah- I mean,” he extricates himself, “That’s what I’m worryin’ about.”

“You’re worryin’ about worryin’?” There’s a note of incredulity there, something scoffing- and the sound of it twangs against Usnavi’s teeth- they should know by now he can’t help this shit.

“Don’t laugh-”

“I ain’t laughin’ at you, man-” Benny pulls away and holds him at arms length, ducking his head to look straight into his face. “Listen, I’m not. I’m sorry- it’s just, very ‘you’. Look, of course you’re nervous! You’re getting married, it’s a big deal! We all knew you were gonna be stressin’ out today, you’re Usnavi- why you think you’ve got Sonny running people out to check on you? And everyone gets nervous on their wedding day- don’t beat yourself up, man, it’s natural that-”

But Usnavi isn’t listening any more, because something Benny said knocked him over the head like a sledgehammer.

“Where’s Vanessa?” he asks, cutting off his reassurances.

“Huh? Oh, I think just in one of the smaller rooms- I ain’t seen her yet.”

“Is Nina with her? Dani or Carla?”

“I- No, I don’t think so, everyone’s busy. Once they finished helping her get ready, they came out to set chairs- and Carla’s been- Usnavi?”

Benny catches up with him quickly as he strides suddenly back in the direction of the hall. He resists the urge to run, knowing it’ll look kind of crazy, and that he’ll need Benny’s help to find Vanessa once he gets back into the hall- but he can’t get there fast enough, not after the pieces suddenly clicked in his brain and showed him what he’d been forgetting. 

Because he’s not the only person taking a big step today. And there’s no way that Vanessa- _don’t like talking about feelings, don’t like talking about commitment, don’t like talking in front of people_ Vanessa- is anything close to calm right now. And because she’s not so loud about being stressed all the time, she doesn’t have a team of family and friends and- whatever Graffiti Pete is to him now- coming to check on her.

It doesn’t take long to find her- the place isn’t exactly a mansion. Benny- and Dani and Carla as they pass them- seem vaguely concerned, and he can’t blame them, but he also can’t slow down enough to explain. He babbles some reassurance after he’s steered to the right room, says _‘it’s fine!’_ far too many times as he knocks and then- stepping into the room feels kind of like entering a bubble. 

She’s sitting on a stupid expensive couch with her knees up too high, but he still almost stops breathing when he sees her. He’s seen her dress before- pictures, at least- but all of it is a lot- Vanessa all in white like she never is with her hair twisted up and shining and glinting jewels at her neck and her ears and he can’t take in anything more specific than that because she’s just so beautiful- and then his eyes flick across the creases in her jaw, her eyes locked on the carpet, and he gets the confirmation that he was right. 

It takes her a second to look up at him, and another second for a relief he’s more used to seeing from the inside to split her face in a smile. She starts to get up, but is foiled by the stupid low couch and flops down again with a grunt. He follows her grabbing hands to sit next to her.

“You tryna give us bad luck, baby? It was you who wanted to do a first look and junk.”

“Yeah, nah, I wanted to see you more, though.”

“You alright?” She laces their hands together and Usnavi assesses. 

“Right now? Yeah.” He bumps his foot for a second, checking that he’s telling the truth. “Yeah, I’m alright. I was freaking out, though.”

“Of course you were.” He pulls a face at her, and squeezes her hand tight

“Wasn’t the only one,” Vanessa opens her mouth, but he carries on before she can protest- “I saw you catching the rug on fire when I came in- what you been thinking about, hm? I know this isn’t your thing, we always knew that. Don’t tell me it’s all still waters up there.” She only bites her lip for a second before she relents.

“Yeah, okay, don’t get all full of yourself, I been a little stressed.” She looks back down at the carpet, but doesn’t let go of his hand. When she doesn’t speak again for a moment, he squeezes her fingers again.

“What you thinkin’, _mi vida_?” Her eyes flick up to his at the pet name and she takes a breath, steeling herself.

“Keep thinkin’ my vows sound stupid,” she mumbles. “Like people are gonna hear ‘em and think _‘man, she doesn’t love him all that much,_ and feel bad for you.”

“Vanessa-”

“I know, I know, it’s stupid.”

“Ain’t stupid. I was tellin’ myself you’re gonna leave me at the altar like some kinda telenovela shit and run away into the sunset with the priest.” It makes her snort, which makes him beam as bright as anything, and nudge her lightly with his shoulder. “Your turn.” She tries to give him a cold look, but her smile overtakes it. She nudges him back.

“I was thinkin’ the priest was gonna tell us we’re gonna get divorced, and refuse to do the ceremony.”

“I thought I might forget how to speak English and accidentally tell you to call off the whole thing instead of saying my vows,”

“I was like ‘what if the whole thing’s a long term prank that someone pulled on me just to trick me into committing to someone so they could get it on tape, and you’ve actually been a very convincing robot this whole time’” 

“You wouldn’t still love me if I was an Usnavi-bot?” He pouts, and they're both kind of laughing now and he feels like he might pop if he gets any happier because, suddenly, he actually really is okay. Vanessa’s squeezing his hand with both of hers now, tighter than her light, jokey tone should match with. She smiles, bright as the sun through ice.

“Course I would, I’d marry you anyway, go down in history as the first person ever to have a robot husband.”

“Aww!” Usnavi’s over-exaggerated grin gets stuck on his face and won’t leave, and Vanessa suddenly looks like she might strangle him, which he’s learned to interpret as ‘you’re so fucking cute.’

“I really, really wanna kiss you right now,” she says, with an intensity that is still almost frightening. Usnavi’s grin kind of hurts, and he leans in to kiss her but she puts a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Lipstick! It was either non-transferrable or a good colour, I’m afraid.”

There’s a tangible moment where both of them imagine what a power move it would be for the groom to walk into his wedding with lipstick marks all over his face, and then wonder whether they might regret it ten years down the line. God, if it isn’t tempting, though. And Usnavi would really, really like some kisses. After a second, he brightens suddenly-

“I ain’t wearing lipstick!”

And Vanessa laughs while she lets him plant kiss after kiss on her cheeks and her neck, laughs when he starts bouncing with excitement and gets up to check how long they’re gonna have to wait for the ceremony to start, laughs when he runs to hug her when she’s halfway up the aisle, hugs her, and apologises to the officiant for stepping on her toes. Literally and figuratively. She laughs needle-bright through his vows and squeezes his hand so hard it hurts when she says hers, and when they're walking out afterwards with their family yelling from either side, she leans into him and whispers,

“I’m gonna throw my bouquet right at Dani,”

“Aw, shit, I was gonna throw her mine-”

“We can both-”

“Ssssh, people are gonna hear-” And he nearly trips over her feet as they smother their laughter, hands clasped tight, and his body’s so full of light that he stamps his feet hard like he’s dancing. And she sways them down the aisle and joins in, like it’s a dance they both know.

Steps they’ll keep on learning.


End file.
